


Practice

by coveredkoi (serenamaes)



Category: Peacemaker Kurogane
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape Recovery, Sex Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-22 19:32:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11974191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenamaes/pseuds/coveredkoi
Summary: Souji finds himself turning to Ryoma, his ex-boyfriend, for help during his recovery. Can Yamazaki keep this a secret from Hijikata? What happens when Souji gets drunk at the company party?





	Practice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Matsuoasuka](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Matsuoasuka).



> The prequel to this story is "Hunger", one of my separate fanfics. I highly recommend reading that story prior to this one.

_「放さないで、土方さん.」_

It was a rather cold day for so late in the spring, and Souji hesitated. The summer breeze should have arrived by now, but instead, he pulled his jacket closer. It had been nearly two months since that incident, and even longer since he had seen this old friend. 

He stood before the doorway of a small dance studio, and asked himself: _Was it worth it to come here?_

“Is this the place?” Yamazaki asked quietly, stepping up on the sidewalk from the car. 

“Yes,” the boy nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s just been a long time.” 

He reminded himself why he was there, but it only brought that red light into focus, ever present in his recent memory. He had to stop himself before he could feel it. Before his body could remember how painfully surreal it was to be rocking forward and back beneath someone he did not know. 

He was there to focus, and take back what part of his life he could. Opening his eyes, he took a step forward and opened the door to the studio. 

“Hi, there, and welcome!” a tall man with dark skin and dreadlocks turned to face the sound of the bell, only to be startled by the person deciding to visit the space. He paused and a wide smile spread across his lips. “Well, well,” he laughed. “Hello, beautiful!” He lifted his sunglasses and set them on top of his head. “It’s been a long time, Souji. I was starting to think I’d never see you again!”

Sakamoto Ryoma, the former boyfriend and absolute annoyance stood before him. Souji felt he may be able to help him prepare for this kind of incident, if fate felt like dealing him that unlucky hand once more in the future. It wasn’t that he wanted to see him, especially not for this reason, but it was necessary. His smile was forced. “Ryoma. I hope we aren’t interrupting.” 

Ryoma looked around and leaned against the counter. The studio was empty, aside from the three bodies and a black cat napping on the counter. “Well, you know, business has been slow. There aren’t too many people that want to learn Capoeira.” He scratched the back of his head, the smile and confidence never leaving his face. 

Souji felt Yamazaki’s eyes, but ignored his friend’s warning for now. “Capoeira,” that warm, flirty tone returned to Souji’s voice. “Tell me more.” 

. . . 

Seven days.

It had been seven days since Souji had been to his apartment, though he had no desire to go back to that cage anytime soon. The last time he had been there . . . He stopped himself and moved closer to Hijikata, wincing at the small ache at his side. Though most of the skin-deep bruises had almost disappeared, his ribs were still sore from the beating, fresh and tender each time he breathed or moved. Ignoring the pain, he forced himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to ground his thoughts, and rested his head on Hijikata’s shoulder. The man squeezed the boy gently in return, reassuring him silently.

This wasn’t a dream.

More than ever, Souji craved the safety of his lover’s arms and that warm, protective embrace. The man had been kind and empathetic, remaining relatively normal in spite of it all. His touches were perhaps the only thing that had noticeably changed; they were more careful and sensitive, deprived of the occasional roughness or suggestion he would have used before. There was also a slight sadness lingering in his strong expression, though it was free of pity, different than those worn by the others who knew him. He never hinted or asked about what happened, and just let things be. This man kept him from feeling broken, and did it all without stepping on eggshells.

He kept things normal, like they were before.

So they sat on the couch, with Hijikata’s arm carefully draped over Souji’s shoulder, and watched the images dance across the television screen. Souji no longer knew what they were watching, but he didn’t care about that. He would rather allow his lover to pick and choose whatever sparked his interest, and focus instead on the feeling of the man sitting beside him. 

“I think it’s about time for lunch,” Hijikata spoke quietly, toying with a strand of the boy’s hair. “Are you hungry?” After a moment, he continued, “I can have something delivered, if you don’t want to go out.” 

The man had sensed his hesitation, and offered another source of relief – they could stay in Hijikata’s apartment. Home. It made all the difference in the world. “I might be a little hungry,” Souji smiled. “Ramen sounds good.”

“Then we’ll get ramen,” Hijikata decided. Though he would not say it aloud, he was relieved his lover wanted something other than sweets. This would be the heaviest meal he had craved since he had come home from the hospital. The memory weighed briefly on his brow. “I’ll get my phone and call it in.” He waited a moment, though, feeling Souji’s weight press further against him.

“Thank you.” Souji looked up at him, though he still had trouble maintaining eye contact for too long. Hijikata’s eyes saw right through him – they always had – and he didn’t want him to know what happened. He wasn’t sure if he ever would want to tell him everything, though he had a feeling the man already knew. As he studied the older man’s expression, he started to realize that his suspicion was true: without asking or talking about that night, the man knew everything (or at least the description, thanks to Saito’s report). 

Hijikata accepted Souji’s gaze, quietly without the challenge and fire the boy had often experienced before. He wasn’t reading or observing him this time, just accepting whatever it was Souji wanted to share with him that moment. 

The room was silent, and Souji could hear his own heartbeat. “Hijikata-san,” he whispered as a small smile tugged on his lips. He could feel the tears attempting to resurface, and he closed his eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

The weight returned to that strong brow. “Souji,” the older man breathed, leaning forward. “Don’t think about that right now.” He pulled him onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around him carefully. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

. . .

“You couldn’t have come here just to ask me about Capoeira, Souji.” Ryoma sauntered over to the stereo to look over a few cassettes. “Tell me,” he beamed, and the hair stood up on Souji’s neck. “Did you want to get back together?” He winked over his shoulder. 

“Ryoma, please.” Souji scoffed, tying up his hair. “That’s the last reason I’d come to see you.” Yamazaki took his jacket, and glanced between the two men. “Besides,” he continued firmly. “I’m seeing someone.” 

“You’re breaking my heart,” Ryoma whined. “We were so good together.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Huh?” Ryoma popped in the tape, turning the volume up on the stereo. Steel drums glimmered in the background. “So you’ve heard?” He looked back at Souji, setting his glasses on the table, rolling up his sleeves. 

Souji took a deep breath, but his voice was cutting, betraying his calm exterior. “Don’t act like you haven’t been bragging to your friends.” He stepped to the middle of the floor, his attention moving to the man before him.

Ryoma swung his arms and bent to touch his toes, warming up for the impromptu training. “Bragging?” After a few more moments of stretching, he looked back at Souji, still perplexed by his previous statements.

Yamazaki carefully set Souji’s jacket in a chair, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. It was warm in the studio, and he wanted to be ready to cut through the tension building in the room. He had noticed Souji looking up Ryoma’s contact information earlier in the week, and though Hijikata knew nothing of this meeting just yet, Kondo did not trust Souji to be alone with the man, especially after what happened recently. Though Yamazaki had never experienced it himself, Kondo had warned him of Souji’s unpredictable rage.

“I don’t care who you are, you have no right to tell your friends about me.” Souji moved into stance, and his eyelids lowered. The firm line took hold of his lips. 

“What are you talking about?” Ryoma laughed. “Don’t you tell your friends when you have a good night out?” The music moved to a free form rhythm, out-of-time and off-key, and he rolled his shoulders. “I mean, we had a lot of good nights, Souji. And I think we both know that was more because of you than me. Just thinking about it gets me-” 

“Oh, shut up.” Souji rolled his eyes. That voice was there again, taking hold of his thoughts. “I don’t want to hear you talk about our sex life again. It was bad enough when we were dating.” 

“C’mon, Souji,” the man grinned, remembering the many sensations he felt while they were together. “We weren’t that bad together.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I always thought you were pretty good in the bedroom.” 

“Well,” Souji’s eyes narrowed. “So did your friends.” The boy responded bluntly. 

Yamazaki took a step forward, and Ryoma’s eyes widened. “Souji,” The grin left his face, and he stood straight. “What are you talking about? What happened?” 

“I don’t know their names, but they know just about as well as you do.” And he moved toward Ryoma suddenly, with a strike aimed toward his face. Yamazaki focused his attention, though he did not move just yet. 

Despite being caught off-guard, Ryoma dodged the movement rather easily. Compared to Capoeira, nearly all Asian martial arts were easy to predict. Straight forward, though swift. “Souji, I was just joking around, talking to some guys I was interviewing for an article.” Another dance-like movement, dodging Souji’s quick blows. “Some yakuza thugs and their boss, Yoshida.” 

“Exactly.” That’s when Souji landed a palm to Ryoma’s sternum, knocking him to the ground. He winced and looked up at the boy before him, noticing for the first time the pain that lied beneath those cool grey irises.

Ryoma started to put two and two together, and he got back to his feet. “Souji, tell me what happened.”

Yamazaki stepped forward, moving closer to Souji, looking between the two men. 

“Only if you help me become more fluid.” The boy relented, relaxing his stance. “I need to learn how to fight like one of them.”   
. . . 

A few hours had passed, and the sun began to sink toward the horizon. Yamazaki bowed at the door, escorting Souji to the car. “Thank you, Sakamoto-san.” 

“Please, call me Ryoma!” he waved in return, sipping a bottle of coconut water. “I’m happy to help anytime.” He stood at the doorway with a towel wrapped around his neck. “And, Souji!” 

The boy turned, his cheeks flushed from the practice. 

“I really am sorry to hear about what happened.” For the first time Souji could remember, Ryoma looked serious. “No one should ever be treated that way.” The smile returned to his face and he crossed his heart. “I promise I won’t mention you to anyone, okay?” 

Souji laughed quietly, a bit tired and breathless from the training. “Thank you.” He got into the car, and Yamazaki drove them back toward the center part of town. 

“Do you still want to attend the party tonight?” Yamazaki asked, glancing sideways at Souji. “Kondo-san is looking forward to seeing you there.” 

“I almost forgot about that.” Souji laughed. He thought for a moment, and continued. “Can we stop by my apartment first? I want to take a shower, but,” he hesitated and looked out the window. “I’m not ready to tell Hijikata-san about today, and I’m too afraid to go back there alone.” 

“Of course.” Even without it being asked of him, he felt that he could keep this from at least one of his superiors a little while longer.

In a few minutes, they arrived, parking on the street outside of the small apartment block. The plants on Souji’s balcony had withered slightly, deprived of daily attention and care. Yamazaki led the way up the stairs, unlocked the door, and switched on the light to the apartment. 

Souji stood at the doorway, looking inside as Yamazaki double-checked that the apartment was secure. Someone, probably Kondo or Yamazaki, had come to clean up what they could after that night, though the floor was discolored where he had left three of his assailants. Eventually, it would need to be redone. His eyelids lowered, and he took a step inside. The room felt foreign and musty, more like a cage than it ever had before. A thin layer of dust had collected on his coffee table and television. 

“I’ll keep watch while you shower.” Yamazaki stated, stepping back into the room, closing the door and latching it. “Please take your time.” 

Souji nodded, feeling more out of place than he had before, though he knew this was something he had to do. It was a step forward, though a large part of him screamed that he was not ready. Not without Hijikata-san. 

As he stepped into the bathroom and undressed, he noticed that Hijikata had left his lighter on the bathroom counter. A sign. “He was always losing these,” he thought to himself and turned on the hot water.   
. . .

“I tried to stop ‘em, Toshi,” Kondo smiled, scratching behind his head as Hijikata entered the café. “They just kept giving him more to drink!” 

Hijikata raised an eyebrow and hung his jacket over the back of a chair. “So you guys have been partying while I’ve been at the office?”

“We’d never do that, Toshi!” Kondo grinned and slapped the man on the shoulder. As he pulled back his hand, he lost balance and nearly spilled his beer. “We’re just having our quarterly meeting. You know how that goes!” 

“I hope he’s alright.” Hijikata sighed and made his way to Souji, who was resting his chin on the bar, watching the bubbles in his glass of sweet, carbonated alcohol. “Souji, let’s go back home.” He gently placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, though he wasn’t too sure which version of his lover would respond to him. He was always unpredictable when he drank, though that sometimes worked in his favor.

“Hijikata-san!” The boy beamed, turning to face his lover. “I’m so glad you’re here!” He wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly. “What took you so long? It’s so lonely without you.” He pouted, and nuzzled his face against the man’s chest.

This was a first. He had never seen this version drunk. “Souji,” He raised an eyebrow. “How much have you had to drink?” 

“Not much.” He grinned, looking up at Hijikata from his chest. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were glassy.

“Souji . . . ?” His voice was stern.

“Okay, maybe,” He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I lost count after seven.” He laughed.

Hijikata glared at the Trio, who sat a booth with a bottle of sake shared between them. Each one of them wore a sloppy grin. Sano blew the man a kiss, and they exploded with laughter. 

They were responsible for this. “You couldn’t even count to ten?” 

“Hijikata-san!” Souji was firm, sitting up on his stool to look Hijikata in the face. “They were coming so fast! I couldn’t-” he stopped and that smile returned. “Ne, Hijikata-san. You’re so pretty, even when you’re angry.” 

The man sighed, though it was hard to stay mad at the boy before him. It was cute. “You’re drunk, Souji.” 

“Mmm, maybe, but,” he leaned on his hand, lowering his eyelids. “I’m your boyfriend, and you love me.” 

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Kondo hiccupped from behind them, grabbing another beer. 

Mildly annoyed, Hijikata lifted Souji from his barstool. “Let’s go, Souji.” Just as easily, he tossed the boy over his shoulder, and moved toward the door. “It’s definitely time to go home.” 

“Hijikata-san!” Souji laughed. “I don’t want to leave yet. The party just started!” 

“Too bad,” the man said firmly, grabbing his jacket. “It’s time to get you to bed.” The boy giggled at the idea and waved to his friends as he was hoisted out of the bar toward Hijikata’s car. 

“Hijikata-san,” he mused once they were out of the restaurant. “Why haven’t I noticed this before?” He placed his hands on his lover’s backside and gave each cheek a squeeze. “Have you been working out in private again?” Even quieter, Hijikata thought the heard, “I want to bite it.”

“Souji!” Hijikata started, startled a bit by the forwardness. He couldn’t remember the last time someone touched his ass, let alone comment on it. Still, he couldn’t stop the small surge of pride at the compliment. Souji always had a way of getting under his skin in the best ways. He carefully set his lover down in the back seat of his car and grinned. “Save that for when we get home.” 

“You’ve got it, stud!”  
. . .

“Ahn! Yes!” The boy panted, gripping onto the blankets tipping his head back. 

That confident laugh, and another repositioning of those slender legs. “You like that, Souji?” Those eyes never moved from the boy’s body, and he continued to move, under the ruse that the boy was just as dedicated as he was to this act of passion.

But Souji never opened his eyes, and his mind only halfway there. He had to focus, afraid he would lose the image of that man in the café, the one he saw speaking to Kondo. He didn’t know his name, but he liked to think that he knew the taste of his lips already. That strong tobacco flavoring that dangerous grin. 

Those lips and rough tongue would devour him, capturing him in a strong kiss . . . 

That thought alone made him shiver. He rolled his head to the side and breathed, “Harder.” 

His partner obliged, pushing the boy further against the mattress. “Souji . . .” Ryoma breathed, “If you keep this up . . .” 

But Souji was already there. He could see those eyes watching him as he unraveled, tossing that long mane over his shoulder as he pushed forward. He wanted so desperately to touch him, to feel those hands, and taste them. He needed to claw his way down those shoulders, and mark him as his own. 

In return, that man would take strong hold of his legs and drive forward, bucking his hips until he shook, crying out that name –

Souji woke suddenly, coming down from his high to face the painful reality of his hangover. 

It was a dream he had not had since he was with Ryoma, where it was a recurring reality, and he was a bit surprised that it was coming back to him now. The sunlight hurt his eyes, and he turned his back to the source.

“Good morning,” Hijikata spoke quietly. “How are you feeling?” He placed a cool rag on the boy’s forehead. 

The boy cracked an eye open and smiled softly. “Hijikata-san,” he whispered, pulling the covers up to his nose. “I think I drank too much last night.” 

“I think so, too,” He sat on the edge of the bed, rolling up his sleeves. “Do you remember anything?” He glanced back at the boy, who had burrowed even further under the blankets. 

“Laughing,” a muffled reply came from beneath the sheets. “And peach flavored drinks.” He groaned. “Please don’t let me have those again.” 

“Trust me,” Hijikata pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. “I won’t. You get a little handsy.” Though it was hard not to grin as he remembered how it felt as Souji gripped and felt for his toned body.

“Eh?” Souji peaked out from under the blankets again, sitting up slowly, holding the rag to his forehead. The room spun, and he gripped at the bed for balance. “Handsy?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hijikata stood and made his way to the door. The boy looked toward his lover, with his lips parted, and the man looked back at him. “Also, you should know that when you’re that drunk, you start to tell me all these secrets you’ve been keeping from me.” He lit his cigarette. “I’ll have to start keeping an eye on you.” 

“What?!” Souji blushed, and the rag fell into his lap. “What did I tell you?” 

It was hard not to say it without being proud, but it was just too easy. “Sex with Ryoma must have been real boring if you were thinking about me before we even met.” He grinned, pride taking over, anyway. “Did I live up to your expectations?”

That porcelain skin lit up crimson. “Hijikata-san!” 

He was satisfied with that reaction. That confident smirk never left his lips, “That makes me feel a little better about you meeting up with him yesterday.” He closed his eyes.

“Please tell me I’m still dreaming.” Souji whined quietly. 

The demon exhaled on his cigarette, and looked toward the boy, a content smile on his face. “As long as _he_ doesn’t get handsy,” he grew a bit more serious, “and keeps his mouth shut.” He took another drag, hoping it would quell the rage building – Ryoma knew those men. “He’s safe.” 

“Hijikata-san,” Souji started quietly, a small smile spreading on his lips. 

His lover decided to change the topic, before the room got too heavy again. “Seriously, though,” He looked toward the living room. “How do I compare to your dreams?”

“Hijikata-san!” Souji burrowed under the blankets and the pillows. “Can’t we talk about this later?” 

“Just answer the question, Souji,” The man was back on the bed, pulling the blankets away from the smaller man. “I have a right to know if there’s something I can improve.” His grin grew. “After all, I have to keep you satisfied.”

Souji laughed and gave in to Hijikata’s teasing, too tired to fight the man. His hair was frizzy from the cotton blankets, and breathless from the laughter. “You’re the only man that can satisfy me, Hijikata-san.” 

The demon purred, reaching to his nightstand to snuff his cigarette in an ashtray. “That’s a good start, Souji, but it still doesn’t answer the question.” He moved over the boy, looking into those grey eyes. 

“You’re better than I imagined,” Souji giggled quietly, embarrassed as the words left his lips. “It’s better when I can actually feel you.” 

Hijikata lowered his eyelids and breathed, “You really know how to turn me on.” Without interruption, his words blended into the sound of his lips meeting his lover’s, and Souji moaned into the kiss.


End file.
